


Hopeless Endeavour

by Polaroid_Memoir



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempted Orgasm Denial, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polaroid_Memoir/pseuds/Polaroid_Memoir
Summary: A tale with two edges and neither of them are sharp.____It starts off with a proposition, Hank wants to edge Connor.Connor, bless him, accepts. Knowing full well what he's let himself in for.*Later they change roles.Hank however, does not know what he's let himself in for.____Another dedication to plutoandpersephone whose tweets continue to be my muse~
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 19
Kudos: 116





	1. Connor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plutoandpersephone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutoandpersephone/gifts).



“Ha— Hank! I’m. I’m sorry!” Connor came for the second time in as many minutes. 

“Baby, can’t you hold back for me?” 

“I’m. Trying.”

He really was, he thought he could handle it, but he couldn’t. He should’ve known better. Being stuffed full like this well, it was just about his favourite thing. When he agreed to Hank’s proposition he’d been overconfident. 

Another wave started to build. He desperately fought it but, he could feel it already catching. Completely bypassing his ability to shut it off. The urgency to feel overwhelmed him and completely shattered his resolve, each and every time. He’d been a fool, a happy one, but still a fool.

“Maybe I should go slower? Would that make it easier for you?” Hank asked earnestly. 

Connor whined. It wouldn’t make a shred of difference. The problem (though he was loath to call it a problem) was that Hank stretched him out so fully, so beautifully that _every single one_ of his internal sensors lit up the moment Hank was only _half_ of the way in. So by the time he was fully buried and thrusting, Connor’s sensors just oscillated between 75% and 100% capacity. 

If he had any self-control he’d turn down the sensitivity. Then again, if he had any self-control he wouldn’t be about to come for the third time already. 

“No. No! F- Fuck!”

And there it went again.

“Oh, _Connor_ ,” Hank’s voice rumbled through him, “You really are hopeless.”

Shit. He was. He _absolutely_ was. 

The forth hit him with an unbridled intensity, the strongest so far. His body tensed, he went completely rigid for a few seconds, his hands latched onto Hank’s biceps and gripped them. Hard. The sensation bolted through him and left just as quickly as it had arrived. 

He sent slack. 

“Are you sure you’re trying?”

“Yes! I’m trying. It’s just. It’s so difficult.” Connor replied defensively. 

Hank slowed down and slowly pulled out. 

“No…” Connor whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna try again. Just cool off a sec.”

Connor nodded weakly even though he knew that a refractory period was almost definitely a lost cause. 

“Ready?” Hank asked.

He wasn’t, but he didn’t think he ever would be.  
So he lied.  
“Yes.”

“Alright. This time, don’t come until I say.”

“Okay.”

Hank eased himself in slowly. So slowly. And just as Connor suspected, speed had nothing to do with it. In fact, this was almost worse. He was already halfway to coming a fifth time when Hank finally bottomed out. Then Hank started to move, and there was _no way_ he was going to be able to stop it.

“Hank! This. Is. Worse!” he yelped as he came _again_. 

He felt almost as though his consciousness had been lifted some three feet above his body and forced to stay there as he writhed uncontrollably beneath Hank. 

It was useless.  
Hank was too much.  
He was too good. 

What chance did he have?

He came into full cognition twenty two seconds later. 

Hank had slowed to a stop. 

“You know, I’d complain more, but you’re just so beautiful like this,” Hank admitted as he ghosted his hand up Connor’s body to push away the stray hair from his face.

“Hank—” the praise warmed him.

“I don’t think this is for you baby.”

“At least trying is fun. Can we keep trying?”

“Now you’re just being greedy,” Hank smiled at him.

“That shouldn’t be of any surprise to you should it?”

“No. It’s not,” Hank laughed gently. 

“Once more from the top?”

“You got it baby.”

By the end of the night Connor _nearly_ lost count of how many times he came — _nearly_ , it was eleven— before Hank finally gave in himself, and when he came, filling Connor up, that brought the total to twelve. 

They untangled and rested together, wrapped up in the sheets. Connor enjoyed the warmth of Hank’s body as he fought off the urge to enter stasis.

“That really wasn’t for you was it?” Hank said suddenly.

“I’d like to see you try and do better,” Connor cut back.

Confidence was what had tripped Connor up, he thought, maybe it would trip Hank up too. 

“Okay, you’re on,” Hank replied. 

“You might regret this Hank.”

“We’ll just have to see about that won’t we?” Hank said as he placed a soft kiss against Connor’s forehead. 

“I can’t wait,” Connor said pointedly, earning a chuckle from Hank as they both slipped into an easy rest.


	2. Hank

“Oh fuck! You ain’t making this easy,” Hank protested.

“You didn’t exactly make it easy for me either,” Connor smirked at him. And well, damn. He guessed he hadn’t but this- this was fucking torture. 

He was being gently stretched open by four of Connor’s long, graceful fingers. Meticulously and methodically. Connor’s other hand had a tight grip around the base of his cock. Just when Hank thought he had control over his building climax, Connor would give his cock a few pumps. Sending him right up to the edge again. 

“This really feels like you’re cheating—” Hank complained, and Connor grazed his prostate, presumably for his insolence. “—Fuck!”

“No, it’s entirely within the spirit of the exercise. I’m merely approximating how you made me feel.”

There was no arguing with him. Though, it was really good to know that he’d made Connor feel like this too, that though on it’s own did _a lot_.

“Okay, but. I’m. Fuck…” 

“You’re?” Connor jeered. 

“I’m— gonna need you to lay off some if you want this to actually work.” 

“I’ve got a handle on it Hank, the real question is... Do you?” 

Connor started to rotate his hand slightly as he thrust in, the twist making his middle finger graze against Hank’s sweet spot with rhythmic precision. Hank felt his body tense up. He was so very close to the edge now, closer than he ever felt like he had been in his whole life. Then. 

_Then_.

He felt himself beginning to tip over. 

“Fucking hell,” He barked.

“No. Not yet Hank,” Connor said teasingly as he pulled his fingers out and changed the way he was holding Hank’s cock. Replacing his tight grip with a thumb and forefinger that formed a crushing ring around the base. 

Hank let out a strangled cry as his orgasm was stolen from him. 

“Shit. Connor. This…” He struggled to form a coherent sentence. His heart hammered heavy in his chest. 

“Do you want to stop?” Connor asked softly.

“Give me a minute?”

“Sure,” Connor said, letting go of him. 

He relaxed, letting the tension out of his body, feeling relieved as he sank down into the mattress once more. His only discomfort was his rock hard leaking cock, which begged for relief. 

“Had enough time yet?”

“Maybe?” Hank was unsure, still reeling, still trying to assert control over himself. 

“Yes or no, Hank?”

“Yes,” he said, and since he was unsure, _technically_ he wouldn’t be lying.

“You know what’s next don’t you?” 

Hank flushed, “I don’t know if I can handle that Con.”

“We’ll just have to see about that won’t we?” 

Connor always did that, and it always drove him wild. Repeating things he’d said days, and sometimes even weeks ago. 

Hank cleared the lump that had formed in his throat, “I suppose we will.” 

Connor brought himself to an upright kneeling position between Hank’s legs.

“Ready?”

“As ready as I can be,” Hank huffed.

Connor smiled at him with that mischievous grin, and Hank knew he was doomed. Connor lifted Hank easily by his hips up off of the mattress and lined himself up. Slowly, he started to ease into Hank. 

Oh. Oh no. Oh Fuck. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t hold on. There was no fuckin’ way. He wasn’t ready, he had severely underestimated how worked up he was. 

As Connor slid in seamlessly, Hank went off like a rocket. Coming harder than he ever thought possible. His ejaculate shot up so hard that it hit Connor right across his face, covering his mouth and nose. 

Fucking embarrassing. 

He felt his skin heat intolerably, he covered his face with one hand, to attempt to soothe his awkward feelings. 

“I don’t think this is for you,” Connor mocked him with a sugary tone. Hank peered up at him through his hand to see Connor lick the come from his lips. 

“You’re a fucking menace.”

Connor smirked again, looking at him with lust in his eyes. 

“Shit, I’m sorry Con. I’m kinda exhausted. Can we stop for tonight?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“I will, I just really need to rest. You just blew the fucking top off my head.”

“That good?” 

“You know it was. Don’t give me that,” Hank said, smiling. He loved it really, the way they’d rib each other. 

Connor lent down to kiss him. 

“Jesus, at least wipe my come off your face first!”

“No,” Connor said before capturing his lips. 

He could taste himself on Connor, he’d complained but it was actually hot. Gross, sure, but hot. Their kiss became a full on sloppy make out. Hank’s arousal spiked, welling up again. 

Maybe he didn’t _need_ to rest after all.


End file.
